Love Me, Love Me Not
by Boogum
Summary: "Damn it, Theo, I can't go and see her now. Do you have any idea how humiliating it would be for me to say to Ginny Weasley that I need her to remove the love spell she placed on me because it's making me fantasise about shagging her twenty-four seven?"
1. Chapter 1

This story was written for **scubarang's** prompt in The DG Forum Fic Exchange – Winter 2010. It won the award for best characterisation of Draco. Thanks to all who supported my fic.

* * *

Draco Malfoy took a lazy drag of his cigarette and glanced down at the September edition of _The_ _Magical Monthly_ – a magazine that was as respected as it was impossible to have oneself featured in_._ A very faint sneer curled his lips as he stared at the cover where the image of a red-haired woman was smiling and accepting an award for her contribution to the magical community.

"So the little weasel has broken free of her rags," he observed, letting out a cloud of smoke as he exhaled, his grey eyes glinting with a humourless smile.

Without a word, he tossed the magazine away from him and extinguished his cigarette on the ashtray. He then shrugged on his coat and exited the room, locking the doors with his wand.

On the cover of the _The_ _Magical Monthly_, the redhead continued to smile and bow her head in a charming display of modesty as the black and white figures around her clapped enthusiastically in her honour.

Her name was Ginny Weasley, and she had just become the most famous witch in the magical world.

**X**

"Oh, Mr Malfoy, did you hear—"

"Yes," Draco growled, brushing past the blathering twit hopping up and down beside him as he stepped out of the elevator.

"I hear she used to be an associate of sorts with you. Did you ever—"

"No," he said shortly, already guessing what the question was going to be and not really caring if he was wrong either way. A firm 'no' usually answered most questions in his books.

A man with curly black hair suddenly appeared in front of him. "Hey, Malfoy, did you see _The_ _Magical Mo_—"

Draco's eyes narrowed, effectively silencing his co-worker, who was not immune to the sheer formidability of that cold look. The curly-haired man instinctively clutched the cup in his hand more tightly, forcing coffee to spill over the sides, though neither he nor the blond spared so much as a glance for the steadily spilling – and probably boiling – liquid dripping down his hand and on to the floor.

"I don't think you want to finish that sentence, do you?" Draco suggested in a soft, dangerous voice.

"N-no, sir," the curly-haired man stuttered, too late realising his mistake.

Draco lost the threatening gleam in his eyes, and then his gaze flickered to the warped cup of coffee, which even now was dripping with the strong-scented drink. "Do clean yourself up, Thompson," he said, lifting a disparaging eyebrow. "You're getting coffee all over the carpet."

"Y-yes, sir. R-right away, sir."

The blond waited long enough to see that his orders were being followed and then stalked off towards a small office at the rear end of the building. A plaque bearing the words 'Archives' was stamped onto the door in gold lettering. Draco entered the room without knocking and, for the first time that day, allowed a genuine smile to touch his lips as his eyes fell on the brunet hunched over the desk, typing furiously away at an archaic looking Muggle computer – it had been magically modified to allow it to work without electricity.

"Don't you ever take breaks, Theo?" Draco remarked, dropping his body with rare grace into the hard-back chair on the opposite side of the desk.

"Not all of us are paid to do nothing," Theodore retorted, not lifting his face and still continuing to type.

Draco rolled his eyes, but it appeared that such comments were a common occurrence between he and the archivist, for he didn't say anything cutting in reply as he might have done had it been someone else.

They were both quiet for a moment, the only sound being the constant tap, tap of the brunet's fingers skipping along the keyboard. Draco picked up a quill from the desk and began twirling it round in his hand.

"Did you see the latest edition of _The_ _Magical Monthly_?" he asked after a moment.

His tone and expression suggested that he was not particularly interested in the answer – as if he were asking about nothing more commonplace than the weather and was simply trying to make conversation. Theodore Nott, however, was not deceived, and finally lifted his face to stare at his friend.

"Yes, I did," he responded, meeting Draco's gaze steadily. "I don't suppose I need to ask what article caught your interest."

Draco made a show of trying to keep up his disinterested act, but then an exasperated breath escaped his lips, ruining the effect.

"Everyone is raving about her," he muttered, placing the quill back on the desk, a faint sneer twisting his normally handsome features. "From the moment I left my house this morning, I've had nothing but 'Oh, Malfoy, did you see that Ginny Weasley won an award for that spell she created?' And, 'Oh, Malfoy, don't you think Ginny Weasley is just _so_ talented.'" He gave a dry laugh. "Someone actually asked me if I would be able to get her autograph for him since I went to school with her."

Theodore sighed and removed his glasses, sitting them carefully on the desk. "Jealous, Draco?" he asked, neither tauntingly nor maliciously. He simply wanted to establish a fact, as was his way.

"I'm not jealous," Draco said flatly. "I'm annoyed."

"Why, because she did what you could not?"

Draco rolled his eyes and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a box of already rolled Dragon Flame cigarettes – one of which he slipped into his mouth. "I never had ambitions to create a love spell," he said contemptuously, lighting his cigarette with his wand and taking a satisfied puff.

The cigarette was suddenly snatched out of his mouth. "Damn it, Draco," Theodore exclaimed, stubbing the cigarette out on an ashtray he kept for occasions such as this. "How many times do I have to tell you not to smoke those bloody death sticks of yours in here; you'll ruin the archives!"

"I forgot," the blond sighed, casting an unapologetic look at the shelves of parchment and old records stored in the room.

"Well, don't forget," was the terse reply. There was a pause, and then Theodore frowned. "I thought you had quit smoking, anyway."

Draco shrugged. "I'll quit tomorrow."

"That's what you always say," Theodore muttered, his frown deepening.

Draco decided this conversation was getting into dangerous territory and promptly steered it back to more important matters: like why Ginny Weasley was being praised for her ridiculous love spell.

"I mean, how do they even know it works?" Draco demanded, several minutes of one-sided complaining later. "It's supposed to stop someone from falling in love against their wishes, right? But it still works like a love potion. So how do they even know it is stopping someone from falling in love against their wishes if these people are still falling in love?"

Theo sighed and perched his glasses back on his nose. "I don't know, Draco. Why don't you ask her yourself? She's holding a convention today at the Arlington Hall. I'm sure she'll be delighted to hear all about your concerns."

Draco was quick to pick up on the sarcastic bite to this comment and raised his eyebrow at his friend. "Bored of me, Theo?" he asked, amusement glinting in his grey eyes.

Theodore had to laugh. "You've been moaning to me about Ginny Weasley for the past twenty minutes. What do you think?"

"It's because you're such a good listener, darling."

Theodore merely rolled his eyes. "Go away, Draco."

The blond smiled, but stood up from his chair all the same. "Very well, Hermit. I'll leave you to your records in peace."

"Good."

Draco paused at the door. "You know, I have a hankering to go to this convention, after all. Did you say it was at the Arlington Hall?"

"Yes – at seven o' clock."

"Thank you."

Theodore frowned, glancing up at his friend through his keen hazel eyes. "You're not going to cause any mischief, are you?"

"Of course not," Draco said sagely. "I'm simply going to do as you suggested."

"What I suggested? I never suggested anything."

"You must be going senile, old friend. I specifically remember you telling me to take my concerns to our so-talented Miss Weasley. And that, Theo, is exactly what I plan to do."

"Hold on a minute—" Theodore began, but the door had already clicked shut by then, leaving the brunet once again alone with his archives.

Theodore sighed and glanced at the ashtray on his desk, where the tip of Draco's commandeered cigarette could still be seen smoking faintly.

"This is not going to go well," he muttered to the empty room, remembering the last time his friend had got caught up with Ginny Weasley. "This is not going to go well at all."

* * *

**scubarang's Prompt #3**

**Basic premise**: Ginny becomes famous for inventing a love spell that ensures people don't fall in love against their wishes. You can decide if this means it merely enhances what is already there or any other way you'd like to twist the willingness to be loved aspect.

**Must haves:** Draco must be interested in either the spell (how it works) or in promoting it to benefit himself.

**No-no's:** No Harry as love interest, though Ginny and Draco don't have to be in love here, either.

**Rating range**: Any rating is fine, an NC-17 wouldn't be amiss here.

**Bonus points**: If Draco falls for Ginny thinking it's the spell, but it's actually just him.


	2. Chapter 2

No one who knew Draco would have been surprised to see him stroll into the Arlington Hall at seven o' clock that night, dressed in his finest navy blue robes. He paused to greet some of his friends and associates and then sat down in the grand auditorium, where he waited patiently for the lecture to start. It was not long before the Minister was introducing the guest of honour, and then the lights centred on the red-haired woman walking confidently onto the stage, her curvaceous body enclosed in a strapless black dress that made her free-flowing red curls burn like flames against the stark cloth.

Draco's eyes narrowed, and then she was talking, laughing, smiling – answering questions and countering accusations with all the ease of a woman born to public speaking. She knew exactly what she was doing, and the blond couldn't help but be impressed. Still, there were many whisperings concerning Ginny Weasley that travelled to his ears while he sat there amongst the crowd, and not all of them praiseworthy.

He smiled, amused that even now people were quick to judge the woman who had achieved so much. Nobody could forgive her for breaking Harry Potter's heart, let alone the string of celebrities who had followed after that much loved hero. There had always been rumours that she had used love potions – the jealous will always come up with the nastiest explanations – and it was likely that such rumours would only get worse now that she had created a love spell that was subtler (but just as effective) as Amortentia, not to mention much easier to use.

Draco wondered if her spirit was crumbling under that composed mask of hers, and hoped with a flash of spite that it was.

When she finally finished speaking and the rest of the guest speakers had done their part, the crowd diverged into the eating hall to talk and mingle with each other. Draco didn't bother to socialise, content to watch and wait for his chance to speak to the redhead, who was currently surrounded by a bunch of officials and the usual toadies, all eager to get in her good books.

"Sycophantic fools," Draco muttered, quite forgetting that same court of toadies often fawned over him – a fact he normally did not mind – and that he had even joined in their oily art of toadying when it suited him.

Still, he was in no mood for appreciating the ingratiating witches and wizards tonight, and was pleased when the redhead finally dismissed them. He watched her take a flute of champagne from one of the waiters hovering near her, and then she slipped through the crowd, smiling and greeting people when needed. Finally, she made her exit through the thick velvet curtains which separated the balcony from the hall.

A small, predatory smile graced Draco's lips, and then he was following in her footsteps, smiling and nodding to those same people who had accosted her before he too pushed through the curtains and walked onto the balcony. Ginny was standing near the stone wall overlooking the gardens, staring absently at the darkening sky as she sipped her champagne. It did not appear that she had noticed him, but then, without even looking at him, she began to speak:

"Stalking me, Malfoy?" she asked, the barest trace of amusement lacing her low, rather pleasant voice.

Draco was momentarily thrown off his stride, but he regained his composure quickly. "I wanted to talk to you."

Ginny laughed, placing her glass on the balcony. She leant back on her elbows as she turned to face him, a smile hovering at her lips. "I did figure that after having you watch me for the past half an hour. You weren't exactly subtle."

Draco's jaw tightened. He had forgotten how frustrating Ginny Weasley could be.

"So what is it that you want?" she said carelessly, picking up her glass of champagne and taking a small sip. "I know you didn't come here simply for the pleasure of my company. You never did care for my charms, did you, Malfoy?"

He allowed himself a smile. "Actually, Weasley, it's your charms that I wish to talk to you about."

"Oh, really?" Her eyes glittered with amusement. "And what is it exactly about my charms that you wish to discuss?"

"The love spell—"

She gave an exaggerated sigh. "I knew it was too good to be true. The day the great Draco Malfoy actually takes an interest in someone other than himself will be an apocalyptical one indeed."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Don't mock me, Ginevra. I'm in no mood."

"You never are," she remarked dryly, losing her teasing tones. "Very well, we shall talk business." She tapped one painted nail to her lips. "Let me guess: you want to buy the rights to my love spell so you can claim the majority of the profits for yourself."

He gave a contemptuous snort. "Unlikely."

"No?" she mused, genuinely surprised. "Well, then it must be that you think I stole the spell from someone else and have come here to threaten me with exposure and all that other nasty stuff you're so wonderful at doing. I might as well tell you that you're wasting your time; whatever you might think, I did create the spell myself."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Actually, I came here to find out if the spell is really as harmless as you say. As the head of the research team who has to deal with the effects of such magic, you'll admit that I have a right to know."

"Why, Malfoy, I've never known you to be so dedicated to your job. Surely the head of the S.P.P.A doesn't seek out every inventor so promptly for a cosy little chat."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Don't flatter yourself, Weasley. I have no interest in you."

"I know," she said with another of her mock sighs. "You can't fault me for trying, though. You're like an impregnable fortress to me, and you know how I love my challenges."

A sneer twisted his mouth. "Well, you can keep liking your challenges. And stop changing the subject," he snapped, realising she had once again deftly steered him off-topic.

Ginny sighed – genuinely this time – and then stared at him with a much more serious expression. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Does the spell work?"

"Well, of course it works," she responded, laughing a little. "The Mages Guild would have hardly paid me thousands of Galleons if it didn't."

"But how do you know that it works exactly as you say?" Draco persisted. "You claim the spell stops people from falling in love against their wishes, yet it still essentially makes the victim fall in love. I don't see how that is any different or less ethical than the potions people used previously."

"Oh, there's a big difference between my spell and those potions," Ginny said matter-of-factly, placing her glass back on the balcony. "Love potions like Amortentia rely on illusion and false representations of love; my spell simply awakens what is dormant."

"Yes, but how do you _know_."

Ginny laughed, understanding dawning on her face. "Oh, I see. You came here because you're trying to discover the secrets to my spell. I should have known – you never were very original, were you, Malfoy? I suppose that's why they made you part of the Spells and Potions Protection Association while giving me the actual research scholarship."

Draco's eyes narrowed a fraction. "I didn't come here to talk about the past; I came here to discuss your so-called love spell. And in case you have forgotten, I do have the power to label that spell as dangerous and have it made illegal unless you can convince me otherwise."

Ginny shrugged one bare shoulder, which he noted was lightly sprinkled with freckles. "You'll have a hard time doing that. The spell is harmless."

"Do you really think you can prove that?"

She let out an exasperated breath. "I already told you that it can't actually create new emotions inside the subject. It can only awaken what is already there. If the subject feels nothing for the spell-caster, nothing will happen."

"And I'm telling you that is impossible. Any spell cast on a human subject with the intention to influence emotions and thoughts will inevitably take the form of an unnatural intrusion. The subject doesn't really believe he or she is happy when under a Cheering Charm – it's simply the spell forcing him or her to do so. The same rule would apply to your spell, and you know it."

"That might be true for most cases," she allowed, "but my spell is different. There's no 'unnatural intrusion' about it. The spell isn't designed to coerce the subject into thinking she or he is in love; in fact, you could really just call it a type of magical aphrodisiac – it heightens the senses, intensifies the feelings of attraction towards a person, but it cannot create what does not exist, nor can it install into a person's mind the thought 'I am in love'. Its sole purpose is to awaken the feelings the subject has yet to consciously realise."

He frowned. "And you can actually prove that?"

"I could always test it on you." She walked towards him, a slow smile curving her lips. "I do wonder what you've got lying dormant in that frozen little heart of yours."

Draco held his ground, not one to be intimidated. "I highly doubt your spell would have an effect on me," he said flatly, "especially if it is supposed to make me feel something for you."

"Oh, I don't know," she murmured, smiling up at him from under her lashes, her body so close he could feel her breasts lightly brushing against his chest with each breath she took. "I think there could be something hiding in there."

Draco felt the inevitable stirring of his blood, the sudden heat pulsing in his veins, and was forced to step back in order to regain control of his unruly body. She chuckled, and though it was a pleasing sound, it seemed to him like the scratching of nails on a chalkboard.

"Well, it's something to think about, isn't it?" she taunted, smiling mockingly up at him.

Draco was about to speak when the curtain behind them was pulled back, and the Minister of foreign affairs popped his head out.

"There you are, Ginny," he said with a relieved sigh. "The French ambassador wishes to speak to you."

"Of course," Ginny said, picking up her flute of champagne.

She gave a brief nod to Draco – though he couldn't help but note the unsettling smile lurking in her eyes – and then she followed the Minister back into the hall. Draco stood there by himself for a moment, still trying to figure out what had just happened. No matter what conclusion he came to, he could not get rid of the niggling suspicion that Ginny Weasley had been amusing herself at his expense and had felt not in the least bit threatened by his—

Well, what had he actually been trying to achieve with her?

He frowned, fumbling slightly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the packet of Dragon Flame cigarettes. He was almost half-way to lighting one when he remembered that he was supposed to be quitting.

"To hell with it," he muttered, lighting the cigarette anyway and taking a satisfied puff as if it were the very oxygen to his lungs.

He exhaled slowly, watching the stars emerge one-by-one from behind their cloaks of darkness. A slight crease formed on his brow as he thought back on his conversation with the redhead. Strangely enough, it was not what she had said that continued to pervade his mind; rather, it was the memory of her warm, soft body pressed so tauntingly close to his – close enough to promise the delights he would find underneath that encasement of black satin, but not enough to let him have the satisfaction of knowing it was his for the asking.

Draco closed his eyes, letting the cool night breeze wash over his face, calming his suddenly quickened pulse. He wasn't particularly worried about his irrational urge to imagine Ginny Weasley naked. He'd never cared about the redhead – finding her irritating as a teenager during their Hogwarts days, and even more frustrating as an adult. If he was dwelling on her in less than innocent ways now, it was simply because he hadn't been with a woman in a while. There was nothing in his thoughts. Nothing.

But when he woke up the next morning, still dwelling on Ginny Weasley's seductive brown eyes and tauntingly soft lips, he realised there was something wrong. He knew for a fact that he had never paired the word 'seductive' with her eyes, and he had most definitely never thought of her lips as kissable.

Draco's face paled as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. "That little minx," he hissed, features warping in anger. "She cast that bloody love spell on me!"


	3. Chapter 3

Draco stormed into the archives later that day, his expression dark with suppressed anger. "I can't stop thinking about her!" he declared to the room at large, slamming the door shut behind him and throwing himself onto the unoccupied chair.

Theodore removed his glasses and considered the blond through weary eyes. "Can't stop thinking about whom?" he asked, not sounding particularly interested either way.

"Ginny Weasley," Draco growled, his hands instinctively reaching to strangle the excess material of his robes in proxy for the absent redhead.

The brunet sighed. "So you did go and see her."

"She put that damn spell on me!" Draco ranted, either choosing or simply not hearing this comment. "She damn well tricked me, and now I can't stop bloody thinking about her!"

A wry smile flittered across Theodore's face. "You do realise this means you've been cherishing feelings for Ginny Weasley."

"_What_?" the blond snapped, turning his glowering eyes on his friend.

"Well, from what I've read, the spell only awakens dormant fee—"

"Yes, yes, I heard all about that from Weasley last night," Draco interposed irritably. "But obviously she was wrong, because I most certainly do not care about that red-haired vixen, nor have I ever cared about her. She's a damned nuisance, and when I next get my hands on her, I'll—"

He fell silent, swallowing hard.

Theodore smiled in open amusement at his friend. "You'll what?"

"Gods, I don't know," Draco retorted, placing his head in his hands. "I'd like to strangle her, but more than likely I'll just rip her clothes off and shag her right then and there."

"That bad, hrm?"

Draco looked at the brunet piteously. "I can't get her out of my head, Theo. Her damn freckled face is right there with every waking thought. I even dreamt about her last night. It's driving me insane."

"Seems like it. I haven't seen you this emotional since you lost your house-elf that one time in Italy."

"Gonky is my favourite house-elf," Draco muttered defensively. "He is the only one who knows how to cook perfect fish."

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "Right."

Draco was silent for a moment, glaring broodingly at the wall. "Damn it!" he suddenly exploded, making the brunet wince. "What am I supposed to do? I can't fall in love with her! She's—she's—"

"A Weasley?" Theodore offered in a bored voice.

"Yes!" Draco exclaimed, seizing on the excuse. "She's a Weasley."

"She's also beautiful, intelligent and wealthy," Theodore observed without a shift of tone or expression.

The grey eyes narrowed. "Just whose side are you on, Theo?"

"Neither, but I will say that you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" Draco cried. "That little vixen has forced me to fall in love with her!"

"Have you tried using the _Finite Incantatum_ charm?"

Draco's jaw dropped, but he closed his mouth a second later – no Malfoy allowed such an undignified expression to remain on his face for long.

"No, I haven't," he muttered, uncomfortably aware of how much of an idiot he must look.

Theodore sighed and performed the counter-charm that removed most, if not all, spells. Draco waited for the effects to take place, but his mind continued to envision Ginny Weasley only as a desirable woman and not the evil banshee he had used to think her.

"It's not working," Draco moaned, placing his head in his hands in weary defeat.

"Well, I don't know what you expect me to do to help you," Theodore said bluntly. "You'll just have to go and see her yourself and make her remove it for you."

"I can't do that!"

The infernal eyebrow lifted again. "Why not?"

"Because—" Draco floundered for a good excuse and, finding none, let out an exasperated breath. "Damn it, Theo, I can't go and see her now. Do you have any idea how humiliating it would be for me to say to Ginny Weasley that I need her to remove the love spell she placed on me because it's making me fantasise about shagging her twenty-four seven?"

"No," Theo said slowly, "but I can imagine how annoying it is going to be for me if I have to listen to you _ranting_ about Ginny Weasley twenty-four seven."

"You're an unfeeling bastard, you know that," the blond muttered without venom.

Theodore allowed a gracious smile to come to his lips. "Yes, I do. It's what separates me from idiots like you."

Draco sighed in exasperation. "Fine, I can see I'm not going to get anything from you. It's not like you could give me any good advice anyway, since human relationships are beyond your comprehension. I forgot you're married to your computer."

"I love you too, honey," Theodore called as Draco exited the room, once more slamming the door shut behind him.

The blond gave a two-fingered salute through the glass window.

Theodore chuckled softly to himself. "My foolish friend," he murmured, placing his glasses back on his nose and turning back to his computer, a grin hovering at his lips. "My foolish, foolish friend."

**X**

True to form, Draco refused to seek out Ginny and gain her aid in removing the spell. Unfortunately, this also meant that the effects were allowed to worsen – starting as a constant but not uncontrollable nuisance at first, and then becoming an all out invasion of his mind. Soon he wasn't just fantasising about having sex with the redhead; he was pausing at random moments during the day and wondering what she was doing – whether she was thinking about him too, or if (and here he generally broke whatever he was holding at the time) she was with another man.

It didn't help that he saw her face almost every day, staring up at him from magazine covers and newspaper clippings. Even in black and white, those eyes of hers seemed to smile up at him so seductively, yet still so smugly, so that he was never really sure if he wanted to pluck them out or gaze into them forever. And those lips – sweet Salazar, those lips. Even just looking at them created an ache deep inside him.

As if that wasn't bad enough, he also had to keep running into the _real_ redhead. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought she was purposely stalking him. He even bumped into her when coming out of his favourite bakery and had to restrain himself from grabbing her by the waist and kissing her senseless when he realised whose body it was that was leaning so snugly against his – especially when she threw that naughty look up at him from under her lashes.

But Draco had not kissed her senseless. Instead, he had growled something unintelligible to her greeting and stalked off without a further word, where he then went home and had a cold, cold shower. It helped, for about five minutes, and then he was back to thinking of her again, wondering what would have happened if he really _had_ just kissed her. The primal side of him purred in pleasure at the thought, but the rational part of his mind cringed in horror and promptly spent the rest of the day berating him for even considering giving into the spell she had placed on him.

After two more weeks of this torture, Draco was ready to crawl on his knees and beg her for release – in more ways than one.

"So go and talk to her," Theodore said for the umpteenth time that day, a faintly exasperated expression on his face. "You're obviously not getting anywhere doing this on your own."

"I don't know what I'll do if I see her," Draco admitted, voicing his fears for the first time. "I—gods—I think I really might just rip her clothes off and shag her."

"Well, then you'll be charged for sexual harassment, and I won't have to listen to your tedious commentaries any longer about how much you want to shag Ginny Weasley." A smile suddenly lit up Theodore's face. "You know, Draco, I think you should go and see her. Yes, I think that is the best thing you can do at this point."

Draco ran his hands though his hair, then let out a shaky sigh. "I need a cigarette," he muttered, fumbling for his packet of smokes.

"Not in here you don't," Theodore said sternly, glaring at the blond. "If you're going to smoke, you can go outside like everyone else. In fact, you can leave anyway. I'm sick of staring at your face. You look so pathetic you're beginning to make me even feel sorry for you."

Draco laughed without humour. "That's because I am pathetic, Theo. I'm in love with Ginny bloody Weasley."

"You go tell her that, then," Theodore retorted, resolutely turning his attention back to his computer screen.

The blond sighed, knowing a dismissal when he saw one, and trundled hopelessly out of the archives. He paused outside the door, staring at his co-workers with a faintly dazed expression, not really seeing them at all. One of the interns came up to him and asked him a question, and Draco stared at her for a moment, a slight crease on his brow.

"What?" he mumbled, suddenly registering the girl was talking to him.

"Oh, I just wanted to know your opinion on this potion. They told me I should come and ask you because—"

He shook his head, shutting out her words. "I need a cigarette," he repeated, stepping past her and heading towards the elevator.

Draco let out a small breath when the metal doors closed together, sealing his co-workers out. There was awful music playing in the elevator, and his fingers twitched again, itching to hold a smoke. He settled for tapping a pattern on his thumb with his fingers, beginning with his forefinger, then shuffling to his pinky before coming back again in reverse. The more agitated he became, the faster went his fingers, back and forth, back and forth, until the elevator opened and he was walking briskly towards the double doors that led outside.

"Oh, Mr Malfoy, I—"

"Not now!" Draco snarled, barely sparing a glance for the poor sod who had dared to speak to him.

He barged through the doors and wasted no time in taking up residence at his usual spot behind the far wall, already pulling out a cigarette from the packet he kept handy in his breast pocket. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he lit the smoke with his wand, and he was just about to take his first puff when he glanced up and saw an all too familiar redhead standing in front of him.

"Oh, bloody hell! What are you doing here?" Draco demanded, wondering how she even found him behind the wall. Maybe she actually _was_ stalking him.

Ginny ignored his rude greeting. "You know, smoking is a disgusting habit," she said calmly, as if commenting on the weather, and not his choice of addiction.

"Good thing I quit then," he responded, discarding the cigarette.

"Mhm," she said sceptically, seeing the mournful look he gave the thin white stick before he ground it out with his heel. "How long have you been saying that now?"

"Three months," Draco sighed, not having the energy to lie.

"I thought so," she said, twisting her lips into a smile.

Draco stared at her lips as if mesmerised. He knew there was a reason why he wasn't supposed to be staring at those lips, but he couldn't quite remember it right now. One half of his mind was consumed with the fact that he really, really needed a fag; the other was focused on how blood-achingly attractive Ginny Weasley looked in that flimsy green sundress of hers, her red curls hugging her full breasts with an almost sensuous indecency. Needless to say, this left very little room for the rational part of his mind – the only part that might have stopped what happened next.

For Draco continued to stare at those lips, and then he took a step closer to her as if in trance and placed his hand against her cheek, tilting her face up to his. She stared up at him questioningly, that same faint smile lurking in her eyes, and he knew in that moment that he couldn't handle it any longer. Something snapped inside him, and then he was kissing her – kissing her so desperately and so thoroughly that it almost seemed as if he might lose himself in her.

Nothing further might have happened if she had told him to stop, but Ginny didn't seem to have a problem with his assault and was more than happy to comply with his desire to kiss her senseless. His hand fisted in her hair as he pulled her closer, holding her flush against him, and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, causing an all too arousing friction between them. He groaned into the kiss, letting his free hand travel up her bare thigh to her bum so he could hold her more securely against him – well aware it was only going to make matters worse, but unable to stop from wanting that friction to intensify.

She clutched at his robes, a breathy moan escaping her lips – the sound only making him desire to rip her clothes off even faster. It was impossible to stay in control – impossible and far from what he desired at that moment. But even then – even when she was making those soft noises in his ear, and pressing her body so delightfully against his – he could feel the faint wrongness of the situation.

"I shouldn't be doing this," Draco breathed in between kisses, feeling like he had to say something to ease his conscience, yet knowing he was unable to stop.

"Why not?" she asked breathlessly, dipping her head back as he shifted his attention to the hypersensitive skin on her neck.

"It's not real."

She froze in his arms, and then she pulled back slightly, staring at him with a puzzled frown. "What?"

"Ever since you cast that love spell on me, I haven't been able to get you out of my head." He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I've been dreaming of shagging you for three bloody weeks, and now – now you're here, practically offering yourself to me on a platter, and I can't deny my feelings any longer." His grip tightened on her. "Gods, Weasley, I want you so much."

Ginny broke free from his hold and dropped back to her feet, taking a step back from him. "Practically offering myself to you on a platter?" she repeated, her eyes darkening. "Oh, that's romantic."

"Okay, yes, that was a stupid thing to say," Draco admitted, "but you know what I mean."

"No, I don't think I do," she retorted, folding her arms. "You think this—" she waved her hand vaguely at the both of them "—is because of a love spell?"

He frowned. "Isn't it?"

She burst out laughing, though there was a definite hint of self-mockery to her laughter. "I don't believe it. I've been waiting for _years_ for you to kiss me, and now, when you finally do, you think it's because I've made you fall in love with me because of a damn love spell."

Draco suddenly felt very uncertain of himself. "What are you talking about?"

"There is no love spell, Draco!" she exclaimed, laughing again. "Sure, I threatened to use it on you, but I never actually cast the spell." Ginny shook her head, staring at him in disbelief. "Do you really think I'm pathetic enough to need a love spell to get a man? I wanted you on my own terms, not because of a stupid spell I created for desperate women wanting the love of their lives to hurry up and ask them out on a date."

"But then why—"

"Why did you suddenly find yourself attracted to me?" Ginny interjected, correctly guessing his question. "Well, there are these things called hormones, which—"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," Draco growled, cutting short this mocking speech.

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know why you suddenly decided to like me, but it seems you're not too pleased with the idea that you might actually be genuinely attracted to me." She gave a bitter smile. "I suppose you only kissed me in the first place because you thought you were under a spell and couldn't be bothered 'fighting' it anymore."

Draco remained silent, knowing this to be true.

Ginny made a noise of disgust. "I should have known how it would be. Well, thank Merlin you said something before we actually had sex – now _that_ would have been something to regret."

"Weasley—" Draco began as she turned to leave, but her glare made him fall silent again.

"Save your breath," she said coolly. "I don't want to hear it."

He watched her leave, his stomach plummeting with every step that took her further away from him. No words could have expressed how much of an idiot he felt in that moment – nor how sexually frustrated – but suffice it to say that the blond was aware he had botched things up royally.

"I need a cigarette," he muttered, feeling around his pocket for his smokes.

The blond froze when he felt no rectangle packet. He glanced about his feet, searching for the cigarettes, but they were nowhere to be found.

"Damn it," he cursed. "That minx stole my cigarettes!"


	4. Chapter 4

Draco stared blankly at the painting hanging on his wall, a glass of Firewhisky clutched in one hand, and an unlit cigarette in the other. His hair was mussed and his robes rumpled. To any onlooker, he would have presented a very pathetic picture indeed.

But Draco, for once, did not care about his appearance. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that there had never been a love spell cast on him – that he had, in fact, been steadily falling in love with Ginny Weasley quite of his own accord. It was a distressing realisation, especially since exactly four hours, twenty minutes, and six seconds ago he had watched her walk away, leaving him only with the knowledge that she had fancied him for years, and would have quite happily had sex with him against that back wall had he not ruined it by claiming it was her love spell that had made him kiss her in the first place.

One would have expected the blond to complain at the cruel irony of his situation, but at this moment his concentration was centred solely on the painting of—well, he actually didn't know what it was supposed to be. It just looked like a lot of swirls of colour to him.

"Why the hell is that thing even hanging on my wall?" he said after a moment, frowning at the hideous blotch of paint he thought might be a face.

Perhaps his house-elves had decided to redecorate without his knowing. Or maybe one of his old girlfriends had bought it and stuck it on his wall. Those almost forgotten women always did have an irritating habit of trying to 'modernise' his house whenever they reached the staying over stage. They could never understand that he actually liked the archaic, somewhat gloomy decor the manor favoured. To him it was cosy; to them it was merely old-fashioned – an unpardonable crime in their eyes. It was no wonder Draco never kept his girlfriends for long.

"Well, aren't you a sorry sight," Theodore observed, walking into the room.

Draco raised his glass to his friend. "Theo! Care to have a drink with me?"

"I don't know. It looks like you've had more than enough already."

Draco frowned. "What? Oh, no – I've barely touched the stuff. Don't know why I'm still holding this cup, really." He placed the nearly full glass of Firewhisky on the coffee table and then smiled up at his friend. "I must say, Theo, you do have excellent timing. I've been trying to work out this thing for the past forty minutes, but it's proving difficult. Perhaps you might be able to help me."

"What is it this time?" Theodore said with a resigned sigh.

"Well, I'll tell you if you'll stop interrupting me – though, mind, I want your honest opinion. Don't just say what you think I want you to say so you can drop the conversation."

"Just hurry up and get on with it."

"Okay, okay." Draco sat up straighter in his chair and met his friend's eyes seriously. "I want you to tell me what you think that painting is of. I thought it was a goat at first, but then if you squint and turn your head to the left, it almost looks like an old woman wearing a turban."

Theodore stared at the painting, then shifted his gaze back to his friend. "You sure you haven't been drinking?"

"Of course I'm sure," Draco retorted, slightly offended. "Why?"

"Because you're talking to me about art. I've never known you to talk about art."

Draco laughed, reclining back in his chair. "There's a first for everything, my dear hermit. I'm surprised to see you out of your cave, by the way. I was beginning to think you lived in that office of yours."

"Even hermits need a change of scene every now and then."

"Ah, I see," Draco said solemnly. "You're having marital problems with your wife. Well, I did tell you that a box and screen wouldn't be able to satisfy you for long."

"I'll remember to tell her that the next time I go to work," Theodore responded dryly, then frowned at the unlit cigarette in his friend's hand. "What have you been doing to yourself, anyway? And why in Salazar's name are you wasting your time worrying about that god-awful painting?"

Draco shrugged. "Just wanted to know what it was, I guess. I've been staring at it for ages and I still can't make head or tail of it."

"That's impressionist art for you; it never makes sense."

"I suppose," Draco agreed, staring back at the painting. "Well, whatever it is, it's hideous. I still don't know why it's on my wall."

"You received it from Mrs Dougherty at the Christmas party two years ago, just after your promotion. She and her husband came over to have lunch with you three weeks later, so I expect you decided to hang it on your wall so you could find more favour with them."

Draco stared at his friend in wonder. "How do you remember these things?"

"I remember everything."

"Now that I can believe," the blond said feelingly, remembering all the times Theodore had ruined his carefully planned plots and lies by reciting something he had said months, even years ago.

Theodore was unmoved by this tribute and folded his arms, staring down at his friend through critical eyes. "Draco, why are you holding an unlit cigarette?"

Draco shrugged. "It makes me feel better. Now don't look at me like that, Theo," he added, seeing his friend's eyebrow rise. "At least I'm not smoking it."

Theodore stared at him for a moment, then heaved an exasperated sigh. "Alright, that's it," he said, grabbing the blond by the arm. "Get up!"

"Wha—" Draco exclaimed, suddenly finding himself hauled to his feet.

"Give me that," Theodore grumbled, snatching the unlit cigarette from the blond's hands. "Now then," he continued, glowering slightly, "I'm assuming the reason you're acting like an emotional fool right now is because you somehow ran into Ginny Weasley today, and things didn't go so well."

"How did you kn—"

"Please, Draco, everything that upsets you has something to do with Ginny Weasley."

Draco accepted this diatribe meekly enough. It probably was true.

"Well?" Theodore prompted. "What happened?"

"I found out there is no love spell," Draco muttered, not meeting his friend's eye. "All those weeks of thinking about her, wanting her; it was all me, Theo. She didn't do a thing."

"Well, I already figured that."

"What?" Draco exclaimed, glancing up in surprise.

Theodore then gave a very un-Theoish snort. "I've had to listen to you rave on about her to me for years. It was obvious you liked her – even if you didn't realise it yourself. I'll admit, at first I thought she might have cast the love spell on you, but then it occurred to me that your symptoms were too sudden. The whole point of her spell is that it gradually eases the subject into falling in love – it doesn't allow for sudden epiphanies."

"And you didn't think to tell me this earlier?" Draco growled, feeling suddenly very ill-used.

"I doubt you would have believed me. Besides, it was much more amusing watching you flounder about, thinking you were under a spell. Of course, then you wouldn't shut up about her, which got really annoying . . ."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Remind me why I'm friends with you again."

"Because I'm the only person who isn't frightened of you," Theodore responded bluntly. "Though, if those people could see what I'm seeing now, I doubt they'd be frightened for much longer."

"I suppose that's your not-so-subtle attempt to tell me I look pathetic."

"Correct."

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, damn it, Theo, what am I supposed to do?"

"You could always go and talk to her."

"I doubt she'd want to see me," Draco muttered with a bitter laugh. "She was not happy with me when she left."

"I'm sure she wasn't, but that doesn't mean you can't win her over with the right persuasion. Better to try and do something than continue to sit here moping and staring at that hideous painting on your wall."

Draco had to admit that his friend had a point there.

"You think I should go talk to her, then?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes, I do." Theodore glanced disinterestedly at his nails. "After all, you never know who else might be pursuing her."

Draco's jaw tightened. "You've seen her with someone?"

"Well, there was that Quidditch player, Ricky Jenkins. I believe he's supposed to be quite the catch . . ." Theodore blinked in surprise. "Why, Draco, where are you going?" he asked innocently, seeing the blond grab his wand and hold it in the air, all ready to Disapparate.

"I am going to make that damned redhead listen to me, and then we are going to have sex." Draco thought about it for a moment. "Lots of sex."

"Good plan. I'll stay here and take care of your Firewhisky."

"Fine, whatever you like," Draco said distractedly, and Disapparated with a loud crack.

When Draco opened his eyes again, he found himself standing outside Ginny Weasley's house. He wasted no time in going up the steps and knocking on the door, which opened almost immediately, taking him by surprise.

"Oh, it's you," she said by way of greeting, looking him coolly up and down. "What do you want, then?"

Draco had planned out a whole speech for what he might say to her, but it evaporated to nothing when he saw her standing there in front of him, wearing nothing but a silk nightdress that was as scandalous as it was alluring. In fact, all he could remember in that moment was that he wanted to have sex with this woman – lots of sex.

So he kissed her.

Ginny pulled back almost immediately, her eyes flashing. "Draco Malfoy, don't you dare think you can just waltz in here and kiss me after everything that happened today. I'll have you know that—"

Draco pressed his lips to hers again, effectively stopping her tirade. She made a muffled sound of protest, but then he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and her body seemed to let out a deep sigh of surrender as it collided with his. Her lips became more yielding after that, and he took advantage of her sudden compliance to deepen the kiss, earning a small moan of pleasure from the redhead.

They broke apart, and he could see the open lust burning in her eyes, sending an aching surge of desire rippling through his body.

"Bed or floor," he said shortly.

"Bed – much more comfortable."

Draco picked her up without a further word and carried her into a room – which actually turned out to be a closet. She laughed and directed him to her bedroom, and Draco wasted no time in tossing her down on the bed and crawling on top of her, kissing her when he could while removing the silky nightdress. It was much more difficult to remove his own clothes, and they both cursed when the buttons on his pants decided to be stubborn. Eventually, Ginny just ripped the buttons off, giggling slightly as she did so, and then pulled off the last of his clothes.

"You owe me some new pants, I hope you know," he murmured, trailing kisses down her neck.

"How about I buy you some more buttons instead," she responded teasingly, then gasped when his mouth found her sensitive breasts.

Draco held himself up on his arms, grinning down at her. "Oh, you like that, do you?"

Ginny's only response was to pull him back down to her level so she could kiss him. He surrendered to this manhandling readily enough, quite content to forget the buttons and the pants when she was kissing him so intoxicatingly, her naked body free for his hands to roam wherever they pleased – and roam they did.

But it was not enough just to touch, and so he became one with her. Their bodies moved together in a slow, yet passionate rhythm that let him open the door to every secret place of pleasure kept hidden inside her. Her hand clenched the sheets between her fingers as he went deeper, reaching that point where stars danced like hypnotic flames before both of their eyes, and his name echoed as no more than a breathy whisper on her lips.

She huddled close to him afterwards, and he wrapped his arms around her, just content to lie with her.

And then he felt it – that nagging little desire.

"You wouldn't happen to still have that packet of cigarettes you stole from me, do you?" he asked after a moment.

Ginny rolled over to face him, an evil smile gracing her lips. "Oh, no, Draco. If we're going to do this, you're going to have to give up that horrid habit of yours. I refuse to date a smoker."

"This will be my last one. I promise."

"Forget it. You either quit right now or you can get out of my house."

Draco sighed and wrapped his arms back around her. "Fine, but I'll be expecting you to make it worth my while."

She stared up at him in that naughty way of hers from under her lashes – a look that promised so many more nights of pleasure. "Oh, I'll make it worth your while."

"You little minx," Draco murmured, and kissed her.


End file.
